


The Mutant Moses II: Project Rebirth

by DocPJ



Series: The Mutant Moses [2]
Category: X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: Canon LGBTQ Male Character, Canon-Typical Violence, Controversial subject matter, F/M, Gay Sex, Graphic Sexual Sitations, Kidnapping, LGBTQ Themes, M/M, Non-Sexual Slavery, Past Child Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-18
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-16 20:10:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13061283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DocPJ/pseuds/DocPJ
Summary: Following the events in The Mutant Moses:After the downfall of The Society, Remy and Harper work to build a life together at the Xavier School, while the newly-liberated Genesis Mutants learn to adapt to their new reality in a world that is often hostile to them.Meanwhile, a new threat rises from the ashes of The Society: Apex Genetics seeks to recreate The Society, but in order to do that, they must obtain the DNA of targeted mutants, including members of the X-Men.





	1. Prologue: The Calm Before the Storm

_New Orleans_

After arriving at the Louis Armstrong International Airport in New Orleans, Remy LeBeau led his gaggle of loved ones to the car rental agency, where he’d earlier reserved two high-end sedans for them: A BMW Alpina B7 and an Audi A8. The Cajun X-Man known as Gambit claimed the BMW for himself, his lover Harper and Harper’s 6 year old son, Christopher. The Audi was for their traveling companions: Bobby Drake, Harper’s brother (and Bobby’s doting boyfriend) Amadeo, the taciturn Cockney Jono Starsmore and mutant-turned-Vampire Jubilation Lee. Lee’s toddler son, Shogo, was strapped into a car seat next to Christopher in the BMW.

Remy had decided that, after everything they’d gone through that year, they all deserved to spend the winter holidays in beautiful New Orleans, the city he loved, his home.

It had all started just eight months earlier, when Remy was traveling to New York. He’d chosen to drive, wanting to take his newly-restored 1957 Corvette out on the road. He’d made a stop for coffee at a little roadside diner in Mississippi. There, a terrified young man had been attacked by the diner’s patrons after it was discovered he was a mutant. Remy had stepped in and saved the handsome, mysterious stranger.

That stranger was Harper, and he was trying to get to New York City. On foot. How he’d managed to make it from Corpus Christi, Texas to the town Remy had derisively christened Bumfuck, Mississippi without detection had impressed him. Still, knowing how dangerous such a journey was, especially for a mutant as young and amazingly beautiful as Harper, Remy offered to take him. It wasn’t an imposition, he’d assured Harper; he was headed there anyway.

Over the next two days, Remy would come to learn Harper’s tragic story: Harper was a runaway from a brutal organization that called itself The Society of Pet Fanciers.

Despite the name, they were actually a group who had, for nearly five decades, been genetically engineering mutants to be sold as slaves to humans. “Pet” was the insulting appellation they’d given their captives, since the goal was to produce the perfect specimen through careful, selective breeding and genetic manipulation.

Harper was an empath, able to sense others emotions, and project his own onto them; it was this gift that had allowed him to form a bond with Remy. It had been more difficult for Harper to learn how to control his powerful pheromones. He could use them to induce fear, calm, desire, lust. And he was stunning to look at, to say the least. Like all of the so-called Pets, he’d been bred to be physically and aesthetically pleasing, to be passive, to submit to his owners.

Harper was feline in every way, with his large, sail-shaped ears, long tail and big green eyes with their ovoid pupils. He moved like a cat, too, languid and powerful, muscles rippling beneath his smooth skin, like a big jungle panther, and twice as deadly. Despite Harper’s fear of being rejected by Remy, he had taken a chance, revealing the exact purpose for which he had been bred: to be a body slave, forced to endure the sexual abuse of his “owner”, no matter how cruel or degrading the act. The Society had classified this type of slave as an Exotic. The others were Showers, Breeders and Workers.

Despite a lifetime of slavery, of cruel abuse and depredation, Harper’s spirit was never broken. He was anything but submissive, and full of rage, set on extracting revenge for what the Society had done. His last owner, Jack Roddy, had come to understand that what was being done to Harper and all his people was wrong, and had set the young “Mutant Moses” on the path to freeing himself and his extended family from bondage.

With the help of the X-Men, Harper was able to carry out the mission to free his family, including his brother Amadeo, and young son, Christopher. Harper had left a lot of bodies in his wake, but it had cost him his empathic gift. Captured by the Society, their chief scientist, Dr. Vangelica, had performed a kind of lobotomy on him, removing that part of Harper’s brain that had made him an empath.

It had been a traumatic loss for Harper, akin to suddenly going deaf. No longer could he “hear” other people’s emotions. When Harper had realized it was gone, that his empathic link with Remy had been severed, it had nearly driven him mad with grief. Since then, he’d slowly adapted to his new reality, though he knew how difficult it would have been without Remy’s fierce love.

The Society was gone now, its Patriarch was dead, its former members cowed by the fear of being publicly revealed as slave owners, and all the so-called Genesis Mutants had been taken in at the Xavier School. Surprising everyone, including himself, Remy and Harper were still a couple despite weathering some very serious challenges, absolutely devoted to one another and to Christopher. Together, they had made a little family together, Remy, Harper and Christopher, setting up house in an apartment at the school.

Harper’s brother Amadeo was another of the Society’s former slaves, a biomorph whose ability to heal was formidable, and grower stronger every day as he learned to control his mutant power. He and the Iceman, Bobby, had been dating, and it looked like things were getting pretty serious between them.

Jono, the X-Man’s resident broody Brit - more colloquially known as Chamber - was another of their fellow X-Men. His body produced a ferocious psychokinetic fire, which had left him badly disfigured after it first manifested, tearing away his lower jaw and part of his chest. He and Jubilee, a mutant who had been given the Vampiric “gift” against her will, had finally admitted to themselves what everyone else had known for a long time: that they were in love with each other. Not surprising, it had been Lee who had made the first move, after weeks of watching Jono make himself crazy trying to work up the courage to tell her how he really felt.

Now, with the recent tragedies finally behind them, Remy had announced that he was taking them all on a much-needed and earned vacation, his treat. It wasn’t a burden for Remy; after years as a high-end thief - a very lucrative career from which Remy was mostly retired - and some wise investments, Remy was filthy rich. And since he couldn’t take any of it with him when he died, Remy reasoned, he might as well spend it on the people he loved.

Remy took the lead in the BMW, with Jono following in the Audi. The made their way through New Orleans to the Garden District, where Remy owned a beautiful, 18th Century plantation house of French design. It had originally belonged to his adoptive father, Jean-Luc LeBeau, the leader of the New Orleans Thieves Guild. He’d given the house to Remy as a gift years earlier.

“Wow! Look at this place! Fancy!” Lee cried as she climbed out of the Audi. Jono nodded at her as he lifted Shogo out of his carseat. The pudgy little boy pointed at the house and giggled.

 _*I take it that t’mean this meets wif yer approval, eh lad?*_ Jono, who communicated telepathically, ruffled Shogo’s mop of hair. Shogo gave him the toddler version of the Stink Eye, which made Jono laugh. The sound was akin to a ratty old muffler, and suited the Goth boy, back-alley brawler. Jono was from a part of London called Cheapside, a real Bow-bell Cockney, though he’d definitely mellowed some over the years. After his powers had first manifested, he’d fallen into a serious funk for several years. It had only been with the love and support of his friends, especially Lee, that he’d finally started to enjoy life again.

“Oh I could sooooo get used to this,” Lee grinned. She moved next to Jono, slid her hand down his back and gave his cute butt a pat. “Sure beats the the socks off the school. I mean, not that Xavier’s isn’t nice and all, but look at this place!”

“Wait ‘til you see de inside, petite.” Remy unlocked the trunk of the BMW and started unloading suitcases onto the sidewalk. “Better’n some musty old hotel, neh? And no Danger Room. We on vacation now, mes amis!”

“Holy crap, Remy,” Bobby said, awed by the beautiful old house. “Does the owner know you’re squatting in his mansion?”

Remy made an obscene gesture. “Don’t be quittin’ your day job, Frosty.”

The LeBeau estate wasn’t as big as some of the other, better-known homes in the District, but it was impressive enough. Originally a plantation, it had three floors and nineteen rooms, including five master suite-sized bedrooms, each with its own private bath. The formal dining room was as big as some people’s houses. There was even a ballroom. Everything was true to period, including the furnishings and decor, except for the kitchen, which Remy had gutted and modernized.

“Don’t listen to him. It’s beautiful, Remy,” Amadeo shielded his eyes against the late afternoon sun, admiring the architecture and all its exquisite little details.

“Gonna assume dat means y’all approve, neh?” Remy said, smiling. He was quite pleased with himself. “What you t’ink, Boo?” Remy asked, pulling Harper into his arms. “No complaints?”

“You are full of surprises, Monsieur LeBeau.” Harper reached up and brushed a lock of Remy’s wild auburn hair out of his face.

“DADDY! I wanna go inside!” Christopher was jumping up and down, tugging on both Remy and Harper’s hands, excited to go exploring. He was a little carbon copy of Harper, right down to the ears and tail. The only difference was that while Harper’s hair was a warm chestnut color, Christopher’s was black as a raven’s wing. He looked at Remy. “Please, Papa?”

Remy reached down and swung his _petit boug_ up onto his shoulders. Christopher screamed with laughter. “Hand on tight to yo’ Papa now, y’hear?” Remy said, chuckling with delight.

“Daddy, look at me! I’m taller than you!” Christopher waved at Harper.

“Yes, baby boy, I see you.” Harper waved back. “Go on inside, We’ll get the bags.” He indicated to Amadeo and Bobby.

Amadeo was as beautiful as his brother, but that was where any similarity ended. Their personalities were completely different; where Harper was quiet, intense and struggled with his anger, Amadeo was sweet and kind and incredibly patient. He had to be, their friends reasoned, to be dating Bobby, a man known for his angst and occasional immaturity.

Taller than Harper, Amadeo was slender but well-built, with a broad chest that tapered down to a narrow waist. Silver-tinted lavender hair framed his angular face, while arching brows lifted over eyes the color of amethysts. Amadeo was well-matched with Bobby, even if it had come as a surprise to all their friends when the two started dating. Bobby had only recently come out as gay, still navigating those difficult emotional waters when Amadeo had pretty much dropped right into his lap. Amadeo was good for Bobby, the gentle Yang to Bobby’s boisterous Yin.

“How’d we get stuck with baggage duty? And what the HELL is in here?” Bobby grunted as he lifted a large cooler from the Audi’s trunk. It was marked “Fragile - Medical Supplies”.

“Oh, that’s Lee’s food,” Amadeo remarked, as if there was nothing odd at all about a beer cooler packed with sealed IV bags of donor blood. These, along with the jeweled medallion that she always wore, and which negated the sun’s deadly rays, allowed Lee to maintain a semblance of normalcy. If she didn’t feed regularly on the blood collected by the school’s Physicians Assistant, Danny Makakoa, Lee would be compelled to hunt in order to quench her vampiric thirst. And that, she had sworn, was not an option. Danny, a shapeshifting mutant from Hawaii, had been working on developing a synthetic blood that could be used in an emergency if no donor supply was available. He’d given a couple variations to Lee to test, and while they did help with the cravings, they also tasted so horrible she could barely gag them down.

“Gross,” Bobby muttered, handing the cooler off to Amadeo. “I’ll let you carry that, if you don’t mind.”

Amadeo laughed. “You’re cute. A big whiny baby sometimes, but cute.” Before Bobby could pout, he gave him a quick but passionate kiss.

“You’re a cruel man, ‘Deo,” Bobby quipped as he grabbed a couple of the suitcases from the trunk.

Harper, being much stronger than the other two, lifted two large trunks from the BMW and carried them into the house like they didn’t weigh anything at all.

“Your brother is such a show-off,” Bobby grumbled. Amadeo rolled his eyes, and goosed Bobby’s ass.

_An hour later..._

Remy had just finished giving the Grand Tour, when the doorbell rang.

“Ah! Notre dîner est arrivé,” he announced. Before they’d left New York, Remy had called ahead to his favorite restaurant. He and the owner, a chef of some renown, went way back. All Remy had to do was say “Augustine, I need a full spread for six adults and two children, delivered ta my house in de District. And pair some wine wit’ it, whatever you t’ink goes best. ‘Bout 5PM. C’est bon?”

Remy opened the door and let in several people dressed in crisp white uniforms, carrying trays. He’d ordered all his favorites, a real taste of Louisiana: ribs, crawfish, gumbo, jambalaya, dirty rice and red beans, cornbread, corn on the cob, freshly baked rolls and peach cobbler for dessert. As a bonus, Augustine had included a bottle of the finest Kentucky bourbon.

“Damn, Remy! You planning on feeding an army?” Bobby asked as he took a seat at the table beside Amadeo.

“Well, de way you eat, I reckoned I best get extra,” Remy winked at Bobby.

“I’m a growing boy. Ask my boyfriend,” Bobby said, hooking his thumb in Amadeo’s direction.

For some reason, Harper found this hilarious, and actually laughed. Loud laughter punctuated by snorts. It was so unusual for Harper to do this, that everyone turned to stare at him, even Christopher, who was munching on an ear of corn. The little boy’s eyes got wide, and he started to laugh along with him.

Harper realized everyone was looking at him. “What? It was funny.” Still chuckling at whatever it was that had tickled him so, Harper picked out a few items for Christopher to try, even one of the crawfish, which made him squeal with delight. After securely tying a napkin around his son’s neck, Harper proceeded to pile food on his own plate. This seemed to break the weird tension, and everyone dove in, with the exception of Jono. Not only had his mutant power left him disfigured, it had also robbed him of some of life’s little pleasures, like eating and drinking, even breathing.

Lee gave Jono a careful look; she always worried about how it must feel for him, watching others eat. Jono sensed her eyes on him, and flashed her his version of a smile: crinkled eyes under raised brows. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze, then went back to helping Shogo with the strange new foods.

She and Jono had been friends for years, since their days with Generation X. She’d always found him attractive, despite the damage to his face. Even uncovered, you couldn’t see the affected areas, as they were hidden by the flames of white-hot fire that emanated from the psionic furnace in his chest. Most of the time, he kept it covered, lately with a simple woolen scarf. Despite that, he was obviously handsome, with a mop of unruly brown hair that framed his face and often fell in his eyes, which were a warm shade of brown, incredibly expressive, and fringed with thick lashes. His nose was long and straight, cheekbones high and well defined. And his body! Lee sighed, remembering the first time she’d seen him naked. The boy was so beautiful.

 _*Yer feelin’ alright, luv?*_ Jono asked, looked at Lee with concern. She seemed a little drawn, light circles under eyes. Her skin was pale, even for her. _*Did yer eat?*_

Lee was touched by his concern. “Yes, I ate. You’re such a mother hen sometimes, Jono.” She tapped his nose with her finger. “Just a little tired is all.”

 _*Well, why don’t yer go get some rest. I’ll see ter Shogo.*_ As soon as Jono said that, Shogo took that moment to launch a handful of rice into his hair. Jono sighed dramatically. _*See? Everyfing’s under control.*_

Lee raised her eyebrows at that. Jono thought that her eyes, dark brown, almost black, and almond shaped, were her best feature. Lee was from Hong Kong, a slight, delicately built woman, though her small stature belied her impressive strength. As a vampire, she possessed all their supernatural abilities. She could move so fast, if you blinked, you might miss her. She was also incredibly strong, and nearly indestructible, vulnerable only to a direct strike to her heart, or unprotected exposure to the sun.

“You sure about this? I…” Lee stopped and yawned, exposing her long, sharp canines. Jono chuckled.

 _*We’ll be fine, luv. No worries.*_ He ducked another handful of rice. _*Oi! That’s enough o’ that, young man.*_ Shogo giggled in return. Jono shook his head and handed him a piece of cornbread slathered with fresh peach jam. With Shogo now fully involved in stuffing it in his face, Jono turned back to Lee. _*Go on. I’ve got this.*_

“Thanks, Jono.” Lee pressed a quick kiss to Jono’s cheek, then excused herself from the table. “Gonna catch a nap,” she called over her shoulder as she climbed to stairs to the room that had been set aside for her, Jono and Shogo.

“Is your _amoreaux_ alright?” Remy asked, looked at Jono with concern. Jono waved his hand.

 _*She’s good. Just a bit tired, is all. Winter nights are right ‘ard on the_ _lass, especially wif the full moon coming. Makes the tidal bloodpull even stronger.*_

“Yeah, but Jubes is stronger than that,” Bobby said. He held up one of the crawfish and waved it at Remy. “How am I supposed to eat this again?”

“Well, first you eat de tail, den you take de head, and you suck like dis.” Remy demonstrated the proper head-sucking procedure. Bobby went a little green.

“Oh HELL no. I’m not eating its brains,” Bobby cast a suspicious eye at the steamed crustaceans on his plate. “I’ll eat the part I recognize.”

Christopher was studying the crawfish in his hand. “Papa? Do I have to eat its brain?” He made a funny little face.

Remy laughed. “Non, petit. You eat what you want. Here, try dis.” He slathered one of the still-hot rolls with honey butter and handed it to him. Christopher took a big bite and beamed with delight. “You like dat?”

“Oui, Papa! Le pain est très bon!”

Remy and Harper exchanged surprised looks. Harper couldn’t help but grin.

“Where’d you learn that?” Harper asked.

“Monsieur Beaubier taught me. And I learned from Papa, too,” Christopher said, shrugging, like it was no big deal.

Shogo, wanting to show off his verbal skills, piped up: “Bloody ‘ELL!”

You could have heard a pin drop. Jono covered his face with his hands for a moment, then looked at Shogo. _*Well, at least you dinnit say that in front o’ yer mum.”_

“Lucky for you, the boy has impeccable timing,” Amadeo drawled.

The group burst into laughter, mostly at the look of despair on Jono’s face. After dinner, the children were put to bed. Lee re-joined them, and Remy cracked open the bourbon. He got a fire going in the cavernous fireplace in the front room, and they settled in for a quiet evening. Each couple found a comfortable spot, snuggled up with the other, watching the fire and telling stories. The more bourbon they drank, the wilder and more bawdy the stories got. Even Jono, who couldn’t drink, joined in, telling some pretty wild tales from his time as a youth in London.

It was a moment of well-earned peace and camaraderie for them. Unfortunately, they had no idea how soon their world was about to be turned upside-down, as there is never any rest for the wicked. Or the X-Men.


	2. No Such Thing as a Coincidence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group of vacationing X-Men decide to split up for the day to do some sightseeing in New Orleans. In a strange coincidence, each couple realizes they’re being followed throughout the day. But who are these mysterious stalkers, and why the sudden interest in them?

_Morning…_

Soft light filtered in through the gauzy curtains, waking Harper. He sat up and stretched lazily. Curled up next to him was Christopher, his arm and leg thrown over Remy. They were both snoring lightly. Some time during the night, Christopher had crawled out of the daybed Remy had bought special for him, and climbed under the covers with them. Harper gazed down at his son with awe. Harper had lost his heart to the little boy the moment he’d held him in his arms for the first time. And every morning since, he looked at Christopher with a sense of wonder, and was filled with the most perfect love for him.

Carefully, Harper slipped out of bed. He took a moment to watch the two people he loved most in the world, so peaceful in sleep, snoring away in unison, then padded softly downstairs to the kitchen. He took a peek inside the fridge, saw that it had been well-stocked just prior to their arrival, and began pulling out items to cook for breakfast. Next up: coffee. Harper decided to double up on the grounds, assuming that the others were also nursing a hangover.

Harper pinched the bridge of his nose. He didn’t drink very often, and he’d done plenty of it last night. A low throb played a steady beat behind his eyes. He found some aspirin in the cabinet, ate three of them, chasing them with a large glass of water. He checked the coffee, and made a “hurry it up” gesture with his hands. He’d developed a serious coffee habit since meeting Remy, and blamed him for it.

As he began cracking eggs in a bowl, Harper felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. Goosebumps lifted on his arms, and a chill danced up and down his spine, making him shudder involuntarily. Surprised, he closed his eyes and concentrated, trying to feel whatever it was that had triggered this odd sensation. It was like trying to see something out of the corner of his eye, there for a moment, then gone. He’d experienced this sensation from time to time ever since losing his empathic gift. It was like a tiny echo of it, and it confused and frustrated the hell out of him. He could never pinpoint what exactly he was feeling, or its source.

The strange sensation faded away, leaving Harper feeling empty again. Determined not to let the depression swallow him up again, he shoved the darkness down, and went back to prepping the food.

“What you doin’, cher?” Remy said as he joined Harper in the kitchen, Christopher in his arms.

“Cooking breakfast, what does it look like I’m doing?” Harper didn’t look up from the cutting board. Remy frowned; he could sense Harper’s deep frustration, and understood the reason.

Remy set Christopher down in one of the kitchen chairs and hugged Harper from behind. He rested his chin on Harper’s shoulder. “Smells good.” He kissed Harper’s ear, then poured them both a big cup of coffee.

“You want some juice, honey?” Remy asked, opening the fridge. “Got some grape juice…”

“The purple kind?” Christopher asked. He was a complete fiend for the stuff.

“Oui, de purple kind.” Remy poured a glass and set it down on the table. He turned back to Harper and leaned in close to him.

“You alright dere, Boo?” Remy said softly, his voice pitched low. “What’s got you so spooked?”

Harper sighed, and dropped his voice to a whisper. “Had that weird feeling again. Like someone’s watching me.”

“Maybe there’s ghosts, Daddy!” Christopher piped up from his chair. Sometimes, even Harper forgot that his son had inherited his keen sense of hearing.

“Busted again,” Remy muttered. “Dem boy’s ears are like satellite dishes.”

Harper couldn’t help but laugh. “I told you.” He wiped his hands on a dishtowel. “Christopher, how would you like to go wake up everyone and tell them breakfast will be ready in a bit?”

“WOOOO!” Christopher jumped down off his chair and made a bee-line for the stairs.

“Dat was mean, petit,” Remy said, chuckling. Christopher’s favorite way to wake anyone was to jump wildly up and down on their bed. Moments later, they heard Lee shouting down the stairs:

_“NOT COOL!”_

This was followed by the screeching laughter of two excited little boys, and the sound of their feet running down the hall, presumably to where Bobby and Amadeo were sleeping.

Harper was just finishing up breakfast when the rest of the crew joined them in dining room. Remy helped spread out the family-style meal. As he set a large platter of scrambled eggs down in front of Amadeo, he couldn’t help himself, and teased him mercilessly about his obvious hangover.

Amadeo looked a little green, and pushed his empty plate away. “I think I’ll stick to coffee for now,” he muttered, staring into his cup. Bobby laughed and proceeded to pile food on his plate. Amadeo rolled his eyes. “Nothing affects your appetite, does it?”

“Nope.” Bobby shoveled a fork-full of eggs into his mouth. “I can handle my alcohol.”

“That’s not the impression I got last night when you were puking your guts out over the toilet begging me to make it stop,” Amadeo shot back. Bobby sat there, open-mouthed, stunned that Amadeo had said that.

Jono laughed hard. _*We could 'ear yer chucking from our room.*_

“Unpleasant.” Lee made a goofy face. She picked up her water bottle full of donor blood and sipped on it. Luckily for the others, they couldn’t see the thick, red liquid inside. As pale as Amadeo was, the sight might have been enough to send him grabbing for the nearest empty container to vomit into.

Bobby gave Amadeo the Stink Eye. “Can’t believe you ratted me out, ‘Deo.”

*******

After breakfast, they broke up to spend the day sightseeing. Amadeo and Bobby took the Audi and headed for the French Quarter, while Jono, Lee and Shogo took the BMW to downtown New Orleans. Remy, Harper and Christopher were going on a walking tour of the Garden District.

They bundled Christopher up in his coat and headed out of the house. Outside, it was sunny and clear, but cold. Still, better than winter in New York. They walked throughout the neighborhood, Christopher between then, holding their hands. He gabbled on at a pretty steady pace, commenting on everything and everyone he saw.

They were touring one of the grand mansions when Remy realized that a couple - a man and a woman - had been discreetly following them. Remy exchanged a look with Harper. Harper nodded, indicating that he’d noticed them, too. He experienced that same, odd sensation that he had while making breakfast every time they’d gotten close.

“Maybe it’s time we head home, neh?” Remy scooped Christopher up into his arms and held him close, protectively.

“Aww..Papa!” Christopher frowned. “Already?”

“Well, I reckon it’s time for lunch,” Remy soothed. Christopher, always happy to eat, nodded vigorously. He tucked his head against Remy’s shoulder and seemed to doze off.

Harper cast a quick look over his shoulder at the couple, then back at Remy. “No such thing as coincidences, love.” Remy nodded his agreement.

As they were walking back to Remy’s house, Christopher broke his silence. “Daddy, are we leaving because of the bad people?”

Remy tried to hide both his surprise and his fear. “What bad people, petit?” Remy asked, trying to sound unconcerned. The last thing he wanted was for Christopher to pick up on the sudden dread he felt. Harper was watching Christopher closely, waiting.

“That man and that woman. They felt mean.” Sudden tears came to Christopher’s eyes. “They scared me a little.”

Remy made a little hissing noise, and picked up the pace. He wanted to get Harper and Christopher back to the house, back to safety, and quick.

“Honey...could you hear their thoughts?” Harper asked gently as they turned the corner and headed down the street leading to Remy’s.

“No...just...they felt bad. They made me feel bad.” Tears slipped down Christopher’s face. “I’m sorry, Daddy.” He lifted his face and looked at Remy. “You feel a little angry, Papa. Did I do a bad thing?”

“Hush y’self now, petit. You didn’t do not’ing wrong.” Remy hugged him tight. He handed Christopher off to Harper, keyed in the security code for the front door of his house.

Harper hustled Christopher inside. They didn’t discuss the incident any further, and sat down to a quiet lunch. After, rubbing his eyes, Christopher laid down on the couch and fell into a deep, exhausted sleep. Remy pulled a blanket over him and sat down on the loveseat with Harper.

“He’s an empath,” Harper said without preamble. “I’ve suspected it for a while.”

Remy nodded. “I t’ink so too. And he was right about dem two. Dey was followin’ us, and dey weren’t friendly.” He pressed a kiss to Harper’s furrowed brow. “Don’t you worry none, mon amour. Ain’t gonna let nobody hurt our little boy.”

_Downtown New Orleans_

Jono - carrying Shogo in a backpack carrier - and Lee had just finished visiting another museum when Jono noticed something odd. The same two men had shown up at each place they’d stopped throughout the day. Jono took Lee’s arm and pulled her close.

_*Try not ter stare, luv...but those two blokes? They been following us all day.*_

Lee looked around, casual, let her attention fall briefly on the two men, then leaned her head on Jono’s shoulder.

“How about we get some lunch? I saw a little cafe just down the block.” She gave Jono a look that let him know she had seen them, too.

They walked, arm and arm, down to the cafe and, despite the chill, decided to sit on the patio. They both ordered coffee, to give the appearance of normalcy, though all they did is use the hot brew to warm their hands.

_*We’re being followed, no doubt about it now,*_ Jono said, making a small gesture with his head. The strange duo were across the street, sitting on a bench, trying to act like they were supposed to be there. One was reading a newspaper. Jono chuckled at that; who did they think they were? A couple of gumshoes from some bad noir detective movie?

“Amateurs,” Lee said, grinning. “It would be funny if it didn’t piss me off so bad. We finally get a vacation, and a couple of idiots decide to stalk us.”

_*Maybe it’s me phenomenal good looks, eh?*_ Jono joked.

“I’m pretty sure it’s me. They probably think I’m someone famous...a movie star or something.”

Jono rolled his eyes at that. _*Yer beautiful, luv, no doubt. But I don’t think them wankers are fans.*_ He narrowed his eyes. _*Wonder what they want?*_

“Why don’t we go ask?” Lee said, a wicked look on her face.

_*Ah, this is why I love yer, Lee.*_ Jono stood and held out his hand. _*Shall we?*_

Giggling, Lee took his hand and let him help her stand.

_*Hold on now, little man*_ Jono sent to Shogo. Shogo laughed in answer, and took hold of the collar of Jono’s leather jacket, holding tight. Lee linked arms with Jono and waited for a break in the traffic. When the coast was clear, they began to cross. The man reading the newspaper, the bigger of the two, looked up, saw them heading toward them, and nudged his companion. The smaller man nodded in acknowledgment. He reached into his pocket and pulled out what looked like a very small cellphone, hitting a button. For a moment, the two seem to shimmer, enveloped in what looked like heatwaves coming off a hot sidewalk, then disappeared in a flash of blue light.  
Jono came to a skidding stop just feet from where the men had been just a second before.

_*Where the flamin’ ‘ell did them two wankers go?*_ He looked around, confused. _*They were right 'ere!*_

“Nice trick,” Lee muttered. She picked up the newspaper the bigger man had been pretending to read. It was a copy of The Baton Rouge Post. “Got an idea where they might have gone, though.”

Jono shuddered; something about the men gave him the creeps, beyond the fact that they’d just vanished into thin air. _*Maybe would should get back to Remy’s. Don’t ‘ave a very good feeling about this, luv.*_

*******

_Bourbon Street, The French Quarter_

Amadeo finished loading the last of his purchases into the trunk of the Audi, carefully arranging them to keep anything from being crushed. He was quite pleased with himself; it was the first time he’d ever been able to go Christmas shopping, and he’d spared no expense.

“So what did you get me?” Bobby asked, trying to look in one of the bags. Amadeo smacked his hand.

“None of your business, Nosy Parker. And if I catch you peeking again, I’ll give it all to Jono.”

“You’re so mean to me, ‘Deo,” Bobby teased. Amadeo snorted, and shut the trunk. “So what’s for lunch, Mr. Moneybags?”

Amadeo laughed at that. True, he made a decent salary as the Medical Assistant in the Xavier School’s clinic. In the months since he’d begun training under Danny, his skills as a healer had improved dramatically. “I thought we’d try this place.” He pointed to the bar and grill the street. “The nice man at the art gallery recommended their Po Boy sandwiches.”

“That ‘nice man’ was flirting with you,” Bobby countered. “I could have been invisible for all he noticed _me._ ”

Amadeo looked genuinely surprised. “Oh, he was not. He was just being helpful.”

“Pfft. Whatever, ‘Deo. You wouldn’t know if someone was flirting with you if they took their clothes off and danced naked around you.” Bobby wrapped his arm around Amadeo’s waist and kissed him, a gesture that telegraphed to anyone else who might be looking just who, exactly, Amadeo was with.

“You’re cute when you get all territorial, you know that?” Amadeo teased as they walked into the bar. It was dark and a little smoky inside, the perfect intimate little place that Bobby was hoping it would be. It was surprisingly busy, and they had to wait at the bar for nearly half an hour before a table was ready for them.

They were shown to their table, a cozy spot for two. The waiter recommended their specialty: Oysters on the half shell as an appetizer, and Po Boys with their home-made coleslaw and steak fries. Amadeo ordered the fried shrimp and oyster sandwich, while the less-adventurous Bobby went with the roast beef. He also ordered a mug of local microbrew beer, though Amadeo abstained, opting for sweet tea instead. He was driving; not only that, but after the amount of bourbon he’d drunk the night before, the thought of anything alcoholic made his stomach turn.

Their waiter, Phillipe, flirted with Amadeo shamelessly. After he’d gone to put in their order, Amadeo couldn’t help but laugh. “You roll your eyes any harder, Robert, and you’ll be able to see your cute little ass.”

“Being the boyfriend of the world’s most handsome man has it’s challenges,” Bobby said, sipping from his beer. “Though, it does have its advantages, too. It’s good for my ego, everyone looking at you, and knowing you’re with me.”

Amadeo smiled at that. “That was really sweet, Bobby.” He leaned over and gave him a quick kiss.

“Lord, y’all make the most beautiful couple. People in love always do,” Phillipe drawled as he brought them their lunch. “Don’t suppose either one of you have a brother?”

Bobby shook his head. Amadeo gave an apologetic smile. “I do, but he’s taken.”

Phillipe sighed dramatically. “Figures. The good ones are always taken. Now, enjoy. I’ll be back to check on you as soon as I can. We’re pretty busy, and the other waiter called in sick. If you need a refill on your drinks, you can always go to the bar if you don’t want to wait.”

They dove into their lunch. “Wow, this is fantastic,” Bobby said. “What are these called again?”

Amadeo checked his tourists’ guidebook “Po Boys are a traditional Louisiana sandwich served on freshly-baked New Orleans-style French bread. Very popular. The origin of the name is unclear, but probably has to do with them originally being an inexpensive but filling meal usually made with…”

Bobby held up his hand. “Thank you, Mr. Answer Man.” He smiled indulgently at Amadeo. There was something definitely charming about Amadeo’s almost childlike wonder at even the most mundane things. Not surprising, considering he’d spent his entire life hidden away, a slave created to serve every whim and desire of their human owners. Sometimes, Amadeo would cry out in his sleep, terrified by some nightmare. Bobby would just hold him as he wept after, feeling so frustrated and helpless, wishing he could make Amadeo’s pain disappear. It always rekindled Bobby’s anger at what had been done to the sweet and gentle man that had captured his heart.

“I’m going to get a refill. You want another tea?” Bobby asked, standing. Amadeo nodded, then glanced over at Phillipe.

“Probably better go to the bar. Poor Phillipe is swamped,” Amadeo said. Bobby looked at the crowd at the bar, almost three deep in places, and sighed.

“Might be a few minutes. You going to be alright here on your own?” Bobby asked. While Amadeo had proven he was able to defend himself in extreme circumstances, he was still quite naive about the world, and easily intimidated by any aggressive overture toward him. It was due to more than just his experiences as a slave; he’d literally been designed to be passive, to submit to humans, no matter how cruel or capricious the demand.

“I’ll be fine. And you’ll only be a few feet away.”

Bobby relaxed, and gave Amadeo a sweet, passionate kiss. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Amadeo watched him maneuver through the crowd, finding a spot in line. After a few minutes, Amadeo looked around for the restroom. He spotted it in the far corner of the bar, and made his way there. As he passed by Phillipe, he touched him on the arm, getting his attention.

“I’m sorry to bother you, but if you have a chance, would you let my boyfriend know I’ve gone to the mens room?”

Phillipe gave him a brilliant smile. “Of course I will, sugar. Just watch yourself with this crowd; they’re mighty grabby today. I nearly dumped an entire pitcher of lemonade on some pig after he pinched my ass.”

Amadeo frowned; he didn’t like the idea of someone touching the young man without his consent. He made a mental note to quietly tell the manager that his employee was being manhandled by the patrons.

The restroom was small, but clean, just three stalls on one side, a row of urinals on the other, and a pair of sinks. Being a shy man, Amadeo took one of the stalls, surprised that none were taken. As he emptied his bladder, he heard the restroom door open, and some gruff whispers, followed by the door opening and closing several times in quick succession.

Amadeo exited the stall and went to the sinks. Standing at the urinals were two burly men dressed in long, black overcoats, their heads covered by hats and their faces hidden behind thick scarves. He felt a moment of nervousness, then chided himself for being paranoid. As he turned the water on, he felt a heavy hand drop on his shoulder, forcefully turning him around. He gasped, surprised. He hadn’t seen either of them move; in the blink of an eye, they were both standing right next to him, much too close, invading his personal space.

“Excuse me,” Amadeo whispered, trying to move away from them. His heart thudded painfully in his chest, and he caught the smell of his own fear-sweat. “Please, leave me alone. I don’t want to hurt you.”

One of the men, the one wearing a black fedora, leaned in close, his face almost touching Amadeo’s. His breath stank like something evil, like he was rotting from the inside out.

“Oh, you’re going to hurt us, pretty boy?” He laughed cruelly. He turned to his companion. “Got me shakin’ in my boots.” He looked back at Amadeo. “Just want to have a friendly chat with you, that’s all.”

Amadeo felt his stomach turn as the other man attached a small metal object to the door.

Fedora-man laughed again. “That’ll give us some privacy. Don’t want anyone interrupting the business we have with you. Amadeo, isn’t it?”

“I don’t want to hurt you, but I will if I have to,” Amadeo hissed, raising his hand. It hovered near Fedora-man’s chest. As much as he loathed using his power as a biomorph to harm, he was prepared to defend himself. The man moved fast, grabbing both Amadeo’s wrists in with his gloved hands, pinning them above his head.

“Don’t even try it, pretty-boy. We know all about what you can do,” he spat. “Now you just settle down. We’ve got a message we want you to deliver to Remy LeBeau. Now, if you yell for help, this is just a taste of what I’ll do to you.”

Amadeo felt a sharp, intense pain rocket through his body, and he couldn’t help crying out. He had no idea what Fedora-man had just done to him, but whatever it was, it hurt like hell and left him gasping for air. It was like being kicked in the gut, knocking the wind out of him. The other man wound his fingers in Amadeo’s thick hair and yanked his head up.

_“Now listen up…”_

 

Bobby finally got his drink order filled and started back to their table. Seeing Amadeo gone, he felt a moment of panic. He couldn’t see him anywhere in the bar. Phillipe, seeing Bobby’s concern, hurried on over.

“You looking for your boyfriend? He’s in there,” Phillipe said, pointing at the mens room.

“How long has he been in there?” Bobby asked, setting down the drinks. He experienced a very intense sense of foreboding.

Phillipe checked his watch. “About fifteen minutes, but I’m sure he’s…” Phillip didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence. Seeing a line outside the restroom, Bobby brushed past him and made a bee-line for it.

The guy at the head of the line shook his head. “Get in line, buddy. Some asshole locked the door. Manager’s gone to find the key.”

“Oh fuck that,” Bobby snapped. Not caring what anyone thought, he iced up. The only thing on his mind was Amadeo. He knew there was something wrong. The crowd made a collective ooooh sound and made room for him. Bobby froze the brass handle, shattering it, then nearly yanked the door off its hinges. He saw Amadeo bent over at the waist, blood dripping from his nose, clutching his abdomen. Two huge men in overcoats were stood over him. Fedora-man had a hold of Amadeo’s arm, his fist raised as if preparing to strike.

_“Get your fucking hands off him!”_ Bobby growled. He was hesitant to send a wave of ice at them, afraid of harming Amadeo in the process.

They both looked at Bobby, and seemed unconcerned. Fedora-man gave him a smart salute before they both disappeared in a flash of light. Bobby caught Amadeo as he slid to the floor.

“It’s alright, ‘Deo...I’ve got you,” Bobby soothed, holding him close. He saw the blood from Amadeo’s nose and felt a surge of anger. “How bad are you hurt?”

Amadeo choked back his fear, and raised his tear-streaked face. “We have to go, Bobby, right now! We have to get back to Remy’s!”

Bobby felt a tightening in his gut. He didn’t argue, just helped Amadeo to his feet. As he half-carried his lover out of the restaurant, he stopped long enough to dig out his wallet and press a fifty dollar bill into Philippe's hand. “Sorry, gotta run.”

Phillipe stared at them, was horrified by the blood on Amadeo’s face and shirt. “Oh my God…”

Bobby didn’t wait, just got Amadeo to their car. He gave him a quick kiss, steered the Audi into traffic, and hit the gas, his only thoughts for Amadeo, and getting him back to the safety of Remy’s house.


	3. Gone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things take an unexpected turn for the worst when a mysterious group rears its ugly head.

Bobby and Amadeo were the last to arrive back at Remy’s house. Bobby had his arm around Amadeo’s waist and was practically carrying him. Whatever Fedora-Man had done to him, it had left him exhausted and sick.

Seeing the blood on Amadeo’s shirt, Harper jumped to his feet. “Amadeo!” he cried, going to his brother’s side. “What happened?”

Amadeo shook his head, unable to talk. He was utterly overwhelmed, and so very, very tired, and cold to the bone. He was shivering, his teeth chattering loudly. Harper helped Bobby get him over to the loveseat that was near the fireplace, where Remy had just gotten a fire going. Jubilee grabbed a quilt off the back of high-back chair and wrapped it around Amadeo’s shoulders. Jono poured him a cup of hot cocoa from the the silver coffee service on the table, and pressed the cup into his shaking hands.

While Amadeo sipped at the hot chocolate, Bobby quickly recounted what had happened at the bar. As much as Remy wanted to start peppering Amadeo with questions, he knew that he needed time to calm down and get warm.

Once Amadeo was settled, Bobby beside him, he finally found the strength to speak. 

“I went to the restroom. Two men came in, dressed in dark clothes. Long coats, hats, scarves over their faces. They chased everyone out but me, then jammed the door shut.” He paused and shut his eyes, took a deep breath, trying to get his emotions under control. 

“They moved so...fast. I couldn’t even track them...I didn’t even see them move! One second they were standing about ten feet away from me, the next they were right on top of me. I didn’t even have a chance to get away. And one of them, he’s some sort of biomorph like me. Except he inflicts pain. And he enjoyed it.” Amadeo’s body was wracked by a sudden, hard shudder. 

Bobby held him close, pressing a kiss to his temple.“I’m so sorry, ‘Deo…” Bobby said, miserable. When he’d seen those two men with their hands on Amadeo, seen how much pain his lover was in, the fear in his eyes, the blood on his clothes...it had nearly driven Bobby over the edge. It had taken everything he had not to kill them.

“It wasn’t your fault, Bobby, you had no idea,” Lee said, frowning. She knew she wasn’t the only one thinking that there was a connection between the attack on Amadeo and the strangers that had stalked them through the city. 

“Listen to Jubes, sweetheart,” Amadeo said. Bobby folded his hand over Amadeo’s and gently rubbed the ridge of knuckles with his thumb. Calmed by that light touch, Amadeo continued. “When Bobby finally broke down the door, they just...disappeared. Almost like the teleported.”

“What did dey want?” Remy asked. His teeth were clenched, his hands balled into fists.

Amadeo paled. “They had a message for you, Remy. They wanted me to deliver it to you.” He stopped and cleared his throat. “They said: ‘Tell LeBeau that the Acquisitors are here, and we lay claim to New Orleans. We expect tribute within 24 hours. If you or the Guilds defy us, we will take our payment in blood’. That was it, Remy.”

Remy stood and started pacing. “Who de fuck are de Acquisitors? And who de fuck dey t’ink dey are, givin’ orders to the Guilds? Do dey really t’ink de Guild Heads are gonna just roll over for a bunch of nobodies?”

Harper was frowning. “Remy, do you think that’s the reason we were followed? That couple, could they have been working for these...Acquisitors?”

_ *We were followed as well,*  _ Jono said. _ *Coupla blokes, same description as the plonkers that attacked ‘Deo. And they disappeared the same way when me and Lee went to confront them.* _

“L’enfer…” Remy muttered. “We had us a tail today, too. Not too subtle. Dey scared Christopher.”

“They left a pretty ham-handed clue,” Lee said. She dug through her bag and pulled out the Baton Rouge paper. “One of those jerks left this on the bench for us to find.”

“Not to sound so cliched, but what if it’s a trap?” Bobby said. “Even if they are in Baton Rouge, how the hell are we supposed to find them?”

Remy gave a wicked, close-lipped smile, his devilish eyes flashing. “Leave dat ta me. I still got all my old connections dere. See if anyone’s heard o’ dis bunch o’ losers.”

A few hours later, Remy had made his phone calls. He’d gotten some good information, though not a precise location for the upstart crime family.

“Got a list of a few places dem fuckers like to hang out,” Remy said, rejoining them. “I say we go check dem out. Anyone feel like a road trip?” 

All hands were raised, except Amadeo. He was staring at his hands. “I’d rather stay here, if that’s okay. I can look after the children.”

Bobby scowled. “I don’t like leaving you here alone. I should stay with ‘Deo and the kids.”

“Got good security here. Plus, I had a ‘safe room’ built into de place. Anyt’ing goes south, ‘Deo and the little ones can hide in dere,” Remy reassured him “Got a comm system dat links directly ta my phone. Dey gonna be much safer here.” 

Bobby seemed torn about the idea, but Amadeo was on board. He took Bobby’s hand in his, and looked at him closely. “We’ll be safe here, Bobby. And you’re needed more on this mission.”

Reluctantly, Bobby agreed. The group prepared for the trip, eschewing their usual uniforms for clothing that blended in, wouldn’t draw undue attention to them. The whole point of the trip was to gather intel on the Acquisitors, not confront them. 

_ Baton Rouge, 3AM _

After several frustrating hours, Remy was starting to believe that the Acquisitors didn’t exist, that either the mysterious, teleporting strangers who’d stalking them earlier had made up the whole thing with some unknown ulterior motive in mind, or it they’d been sent on an intentional wild goose chase. That was starting to look more and more likely. He shared his concerns with the others.

“They wanted us away from the house,” Bobby said softly, saying out loud what the rest of them were thinking now.

_ *We gorra get back, Rems. This don’t feel right.*  _ Jono was understandably concerned; he loved Shogo like he was his own. Lee was too scared now to say anything.

Harper was pale. He’d just tried calling Amadeo’s cellphone. It had gone right to voicemail.

“He’s not answering.”

Bobby let loose with a string of curses. “I fucking TOLD you we shouldn’t leave him alone!” He punched the side of the Suburban. “I  _ knew _ it.”

_ *Just get us back there as quick as you can, mate,*  _ Jono said, climbing in beside Lee. He pulled her close and tried to reassure and comfort her the best he could.

It was the longest drive any of them had ever taken.

_ Remy’s house, now. _

The house was just as they had left it, everything in its place. Until the got to the library. The door of the safe room had been torn right off its hinges, and there were clear signs of a struggle. No sign of Amadeo or the children.

There were splatters of blood on the walls. It was Jono who noticed the note attached to the back of the library door. Nailed to it was a human pinky finger. 

_ *Fuck me sideways,*  _ Jono muttered. He couldn’t bring himself to ask.

It only took one look for Bobby to know. “That’s Amadeo’s.” He felt like he was going to vomit. Remy yanked the note free and read it out loud:

_ “We have them. If you fail to follow our instructions to the letter, we will send them all back to you in pieces. LeBeau is to meet with us, alone, at a location we will provide you with once he is enroute. There is a cell phone in the mailbox. We will call with instructions at 0700. Until then, do nothing. Any attempt to rescue the hostages will result in their deaths.” _

Harper tore his eyes away from the severed finger nailed to the wall looked at Remy. “What are we going to do?” 

Fighting back tears, Bobby gently pulled Amadeo’s finger from the wall and almost reverently wrapped it up in the bandana he kept in his pocket. He tried not to think about the pain and fear Amadeo must have experienced, or how the children were probably made to watch. It was all just too horrifying. 

Remy was scowling. “We’re gonna get our family back, dat’s what we gonna do.” He turned sharply on his heel and practically ran to the mailbox. As promised, there was a cellphone inside, along with a large manila envelope. He went back inside the house, where the others had gathered in the parlor; none of them wanted to stay in the library.

No one spoke as Remy tore open the envelope. Inside were several photographs, most taken inside a fully-enclosed steel-walled room. They showed Amadeo, his left hand wrapped in bloody bandages, a metal collar around his neck, huddled in the corner with the children clinging to him. Shogo was crying, and Christopher appeared to be mute with terror. Another one showed a close-up of the exterior of the cell, with several tanks stacked next to it, most marked FLAMMABLE, while the others were oxygen tanks. A hose led from the bottles to a port on the side of the cell. The implication was clear: Amadeo and the children would be burned alive if their instructions weren’t followed to the letter.

Lee gave a little cry of fear, and clapped her hand to her mouth. Jono seemed frozen in place, speechless and numb. Bobby sat down on the sofa and buried his head in his hands, shoulders shaking. As for Harper, it took every bit of self-control he had not to leave and hunt the bastards down who had taken his loved ones. Remy was clenching and unclenching his hands, muttering French curses under his breath. He knew the others were looking to  him for reassurances, for leadership, but he had no words of comfort for them. One thing he was sure of was that experience had proven time and time again that no matter what, no matter what he did or did not do, there was no way the Acquisitors would release their hostages alive.


	4. Apex Predator

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Apex Genetics has started Phase One of Project Rebirth. In order to fulfill their mission, they've created a cadre of human-mutant hybrids to abduct certain mutants in order to steal their DNA.

In a restricted area located in the sub-basement of Apex Genetics, Director Carver was escorting Dr. Vangelica to a lab known only as the ‘Special Operations Department’. The geneticist behind Project Rebirth was curious as to what Carver was so excited to show him.

“What’s this all about, Director?” Vangelica asked, careful to use Carver’s new title. The man was very prickly about being addressed as such.

Carver placed his hand on the security panel, waiting as it was scanned. The door opened once his identity was confirmed. “You wanted to know how we were going to obtain the necessary DNA samples from the X-Men? Well, here’s your answer.” He made a sweeping gesture. Vangelica looked around; it was a lab, no different from the ones upstairs. He tried not to look bored.

“What is this?” Vangelica asked.

“This is where we’ve been creating a new cadre of Orderlies. Before, Matignon relied on humans. For what we need, we require soldiers with the skills to engage mutants as well-trained as the X-Men.” Carver led the man through a second door to a training room, complete with work-out equipment and a copied version of the Danger Room. There, a dozen men were running drills using computer simulated versions of the X-Men. From behind a thick glass window, a man in a black tactical uniform was overseeing the action.

“This is Sgt. Roy Simms. He’s the head of our new Orderly Cadre,” Carver said. Sgt. Simms looked away briefly and nodded in acknowledgement. “How are they performing, Sergeant?” 

Simms smiled. It was not a pleasant sight. “Much better than expected. Their modifications are working splendidly.”

Vengelica frowned. “What do you mean?”

Carver nodded. “Each member of the Cadre has been modified with mutant DNA. Some have been fitted with both physical and cybernetic parts to boost their genetic enhancements.”

“ _ Physical  _ enhancements?” Vangelica asked, although he suspected the truth.

“We obtained mutant body parts from...donors,” Carver replied, grinning. He’d purchased the requested ‘parts’ from a black-market supplier of mutant bodies. Vangelica had heard rumors of such suppliers, and he suppressed a shudder. Ever since the destruction of the Society’s genetics facility in Colorado, Vangelica had begun to question the idea of mutant slavery. The only reason he was involved in Carver’s plan was his dedication to creating a more perfect version of  _ homo superior,  _ part of his personal agenda, one that Carver had no idea of.

“We’ve got a dozen modified Orderlies so far,” Sgt. Simms explained. “Each with their own specialty.”

“Are they ready to begin Phase One?” Carver asked.

Simms smiled again. “Ready on your say-so, Director. We’ve been drilling for the capture of Subject One.”

“That would be Kapukoa - Danny Makakoa, the shapeshifter,” Carver explained. “He should be fairly simple to bring in, as he’s new to the X-Men, and his primary role isn’t as one of their soldiers. He’s just their medic.” Carver waved his hand, dismissive.

Simms cleared his throat. “I wouldn’t underestimate him, Director. Kapukoa can take the form and power of any animal. He’s quite formidable.”

“No match for our Orderlies,” Carver snapped. “You have your orders, Sergeant. I want him here at Apex by tomorrow.”

“Yes Sir,” Simms said, giving a smart salute. He pressed a button on the danger room intercom. “All right, that’s enough for today. Orderlies One, Four, and Twelve, suit up for a mission. Real world, not a drill.” He looked back at Carver. “The mutie will be delivered tonight, Director.”

Carver puffed out his chest. “Very good, Sergeant.”

_ Empire State University, School of Medicine _

Danny Makakoa turned up the collar of his coat as he stepped out into the dark and cold night. He’d just finished with his class on tactical emergency casualty care, part of his ongoing education as a Physician's Assistant. He’d chosen this course in particular because of his work with the X-Men. As the head of the Xavier School’s on-site clinic, most of the patients he saw were for minor injuries and routine illnesses. But because of the  dangerous lives the X-Men led, it wasn’t unusual for them to present with some pretty serious injuries. True, he had the healer, Amadeo, to assist, but he wasn’t willing to rely on him. Better to be trained to treat traumatic injuries the old fashioned way.

He took a shortcut passed the Quad to where his car was parked. A Native Hawaiian, Danny was tall, almost six and half feet, forcing him to duck under some of the branches of the trees that lined the pathway. As he rounded a corner, he heard the crack of a branch underfoot, just off the path. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, and a rush of adrenaline flooded his body.

His animal sixth-sense kicked in, and he jerked sideways, narrowly missing something that had been shot at him. It pierced the grass near his feet. He immediately recognized it as a tranquilizer dart, the kind used to sedate wildlife.

“Son of a bitch!” Danny growled as four black-clad men moved out of the shadows. He immediately transformed into a cheetah, instinctively understanding that speed was his best defense, as he wasn’t trained in close quarter combat. Unfortunately for him, he didn’t get very far. The second dart hit its mark, plunging into his neck. Danny ran for several more yards before he collapsed, reverting back to his human form. He groaned heavily as the men surrounded him.

“That was way too easy,” one of the Orderlies said, kicking Danny. He squatted down beside the shapeshifter and wound his hand in his thick black hair, dragging his head up off the ground. Danny struggled to focus on him as the ketamine took effect. “Figured you’d put up more of a fight, mutie scum.”

Danny gathered the last of his strength, and just as he was slipping into unconsciousness, he spit in the man’s face. The last thing he remembered was the butt of a rifle as it came crashing down on his head. Then, nothing.

_ Apex Genetics - Department of Special Operations _

Consciousness returned slowly to Danny. The first thing he noticed was how bad his head hurt. Next was how terribly thirsty he was. Then, most frightening of all, the realization that he couldn’t move his arms or legs. He opened his eyes, squinting against the bright fluorescent overhead lights and took in his surroundings. 

He was in some sort of medical exam room, lying on a hospital bed, wearing only a pair of surgical scrub bottoms, his wrists and ankles secured with heavy restraints. There was something around his neck, a collar of some kind. When he couldn’t shift to one of his animal forms, he realized it was some sort of device that cancelled out his mutant power, similar to the Genoshan slave-collars he’d read about. 

“Hello?” Danny croaked. His mouth was bone-dry, and he was desperately thirsty. “Is anyone there?”

The door to his room opened, and a man in a white coat entered. He looked at Danny with a combination of concern and wariness. 

“Ah, you’re awake, Mr. Makakoa. How are you feeling?”

Danny bared his teeth at the man. “How the fuck do you think I feel? I’ve been tranked, kidnapped and being held prisoner.” He gave a hard yank on one of his wrist restraints. “Who the hell are you?”

The man cleared his throat. “My name is Dr. Vangelica. I’m the chief geneticist for the Society.”

Danny felt his heart freeze. He recognized the name, and was stunned that he was still alive. It was thought that he’d perished in the explosion at the Colorado facility. Vengelica poured some water into a plastic cup, and held it to Danny’s lips.

“Drink. I know the ketamine has left you dehydrated.”

Reluctantly, Danny did as he was told, draining the cup. Vangelica refilled it, and waited patiently while Danny drank it, too. 

“Better?” Vangelica asked, pleasant and mild. He sounded like any Doctor talking to a patient. His demeanor only served to piss Danny off even more.

“Why am I here?” Danny asked, trying to keep his voice level and calm, not betray the fear he felt at being held captive by the Society.

Vangelica gave him a sympathetic smile. “I think you know why.”

“No, I don’t,” Danny shot back, angry now. 

Vangelica patted him on the leg. “Don’t be frightened. All we need is your DNA. We’re not going to hurt you. Once the procedure is completed, you’ll be returned to your school.”

“Don’t treat me like I’m stupid,” Danny hissed. “There’s no way I’m ever getting out of here, and you know it. Whatever it is you’re doing, letting me go would endanger it. I’m a liability to you alive.”

Vangelica winced. Danny was right; Carver had ordered the mutant be “euthanized” as soon as his DNA had been collected. Vangelica had argued against it, saying it was easy to wipe Danny’s memory of the event, of any knowledge of Apex or Project Rebirth. For a fleeting moment, he considered helping Danny escape, but quickly dismissed the idea. His project was simply too important to risk just to save one mutant.

“Try to get some rest. A tech will be in shortly to prep you for surgery.” Again, Vangelica patted Danny’s leg, then left, leaving Danny to contemplate what, exactly, was going to happen to him. His thoughts turned to Miriam, the nurse who worked with him at the school’s clinic, and he was filled with regret. Regret for not telling her how he felt about her, for the lost opportunity.

“I’m so sorry, ku’u ipo,” he said softly, then, hating himself for it, he wept.

_ The Xavier School, Office of the Headmaster _

“Something’s wrong, Kitty,” Miriam said as she sat down across the desk from Kitty’s desk. Miriam was a Sufi Muslim whose family had fled Iran when she was just an infant. When she’d seen the advertisement for a nurse at the Xavier School, she’d jumped at the chance. Since then, working so closely with Danny, she’d developed more than just a passing fondness for him.

“What do you mean?” Kitty asked, confused. Miriam had burst into her office, obviously upset, blurting out that Danny was missing. 

“He never showed up for work this morning. I tried calling his phone, but he didn’t answer. He’s not at home either. I know he attended class at Empire U. last night, so I went there. His car is still in the parking lot. And I found this along the trail he likes to take by the Quad.” Miriam set the dart down on Kitty’s desk. “It’s a ketamine tranquilizer dart, like the kind used to sedate large animals.” She stopped, fighting tears. “I just know he’s in trouble!”

Kitty didn’t bother to ask how Miriam knew Danny’s schedule, or that he liked to walk the path by the Quad. She’d seen the way the two looked at each other. What she was concerned about right now was that one of her people was missing, probably kidnapped. By who, and for what reason, she had no idea. But whoever they were, they knew enough about Danny to be prepared to take him down with an animal tranquilizer. She stood up and walked around her desk, pulling Miriam into a warm hug.

“I know you’re scared, Miriam, and I don’t blame you, but we have ways of tracking him. I’ll have Rachael use Cerebro to find him, okay?”

Miriam wiped her eyes and nodded. “Do you think he’s still alive?”

“If whoever took him wanted him dead, they would have killed him on the spot, not tranquilized him. They obviously want him for something,” Kitty reassured her.

Miriam shuddered. “But for what?”

Kitty shook her head. She didn’t like to think about the reasons why anyone would be interested in Danny. What she didn’t tell Miriam was that there’d been a recent string of mutant disappearances, their bodies found dumped outside the city, parts of them missing. The black market trade in mutant organs was once again a thriving business.

“I don’t know,” Kitty finally said. Miriam shut her eyes and bowed her head; it was obvious she suspected the same thing Kitty did.

“I should have told him,” Miriam said softly. She began to cry. Kitty hugged her close again, wishing there was something she could say, knowing that there was nothing  _ to  _ say. 


	5. Deadly Rivalry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the lives of Amadeo and the children depending on him, Remy meets with the mysterious, upstart crime family who call themselves the Acquisitors. But what they demand in exchange for releasing their hostages may be impossible for Remy to deliver.

_Remy LeBeau's house, the Garden District, New Orleans_

The call came at 7AM, right on the dot; Remy put it on speaker so everyone could hear. A gruff, heavily accented voice - he thought it might have been Russian - gave him the location for the meet.

"And you will come alone, Monsieur LeBeau. If we think for even one moment you have broken your word, we will send you another piece, from the little kitten boy this time, yes? You understand?"

Harper clapped his hand over his mouth to keep from crying out. Remy felt like he was going to vomit. That these bastards would threaten to harm his boy, a child, made him tremble with rage. "I'll be dere. Alone."

"See that you are. And be punctual; even a minute late, and we will take that as disrespect for our organization, and will be dealt with accordingly. 7PM tonight, LeBeau. Alone."

That was the end of the conversation. Remy set the phone down and without a word, pulled Harper into his arms, held tight to him. For a moment, Remy's shoulders shook; it was obvious he was crying, and trying desperately to stop.

"What are we going to do?" Bobby asked, furious.

Remy angrily swiped at his eyes, and then turned to look at the others. "I'm gonna go meet dem. _Alone._ I ain't riskin' our family's lives. Dey want New Orleans? Dey can have it."

"You can't go alone, love. I can't lose you," Harper said softly, searching Remy's face. Gently, he laid his palm alongside Remy's cheek. Remy leaned into the touch.

"You ain't gonna lose me, mon amour," Remy whispered. He pressed a kiss to Harper's brow, struggling to hide his fear.

" _I gorra idea,*_ Jono spoke up. He had his arms around Lee, who was frantic with fear for Shogo. _*Them fuckin' sods, dey said yer gorra go alone. Fine then, yer go alone. But I can be nearby, not close enough for them to know I'm there, but close enough to know if you need me 'elp.*_

Remy looked surprised. "I didn't know your psi abilities were dat strong."

_*Been workin' on it,*_ Jono replied, shrugging. _*Helps that you're an empath.*_

Remy thought about it for a moment, then realized the sense in it. He nodded. "Alright. Just you and me, Jono. No one else." He turned to Bobby. "I'm gonna trust you ta come get us if t'ings go bad. If you ain't heard from me by, say, 8PM, you best come a runnin'."

Bobby was silent for a long time. He knew what Remy was asking him to do, to stay put, despite how badly he wanted to go and destroy the bastards who had hurt Amadeo, who had threatened the children.

"Okay, Gumbo. Just pleaseâ€¦" Bobby's voice trailed off, and he swallowed hard, trying to control his emotions. Remy squeezed his hand.

"I know, Bobby. I will."

_Baton Rouge, 6:30PM_

Remy pulled the BMW over onto the side of the road. They were on the outskirts of an industrial section of the city, where seedy bars dotted the main road.

"You sure you want me ta drop you off here, ami?" Remy said, unsure about Jono's choice of locations to wait. It was an old rat-trap of a bar, its neon sign blinking sadly in the dark. Jono laughed.

_*I've been in worse, mate. I like a good dive bar. Not ter worry; I can take care o' meself.*_

Remy laughed at that. "I have no doubt." He paused and grew serious. "Thanks for this, Jono. Glad I got you for backup."

_*Just get in and get out. And...see if they'll let yer check on the babies, make sure they've not been 'armed. I gorra know, Remy. Shogo, the lad is like me own...*_

"I know. I'm so sorry, Jono." Remy shut his eyes tight, trying to chase away the dark thoughts he was having.

Jono squeezed Remy's shoulder. _*Enough o' that. Ain't anyone's fault this 'appened.*_ He opened the door and got out. _*If I don't 'ear from yer by 7:30, I'm comin' ter get yer."_ With that, he shut the door and sauntered into the bar. Remy waited a few more minutes, then pulled out onto the empty street. He'd programmed the location of the address he'd been given into the BMW's GPS and was there with ten minutes to spare.

He didn't even get a chance to get out of the car before it was surrounded by armed men, appearing out of thin air. It confirmed for Remy that they had some kind of teleportation tech.

"Outta the car. Real slow. Show your hands," one of the thugs said, gesturing with his gun. Remy did as he was told. Another one took the keys and did a thorough search of the BMW.

"All clear. He's alone. Mutie's smarter than he looks."

Remy held his tongue. As much as he wanted to rip into them, he knew it was in his best interest to keep his mouth shut. He kept his hands raised, and let them lead him inside the nondescript warehouse. There, he was escorted to an office high above the production floor. Remy figured from the looks of it, they were dealing in stolen military tech.

Inside the office, a large man in an ill-fitting suit was sitting behind a desk. He reeked of cheap cologne and cigar smoke. In his fat hands he gripped a glass of vodka. Remy wrinkled his nose, unable to hide his disgust. The man was a vulgar parody of a mobster, right down to the ruby pinky ring and heavily-oiled pompadour hairdo.

"Ahh, Monsieur LeBeau. So glad you could join me this evening. Drink?" He held up the bottle of vodka. Remy shook his head. "Shame. It's very good vodka. Now, shall we discuss business?"

Remy crossed his arms over his chest. "You de boss."

"That I am," the man chuckled. "My name is Viktor Porchenko, and I am the Patriarch of this clan. I have a desire to expand my business into territory your Guild currently controls."

"Nobody stoppin' you," Remy muttered.

Viktor laughed at that. "No, nobody has the balls to. But...we wish no competition. All we ask of you is that you cede total control of New Orleans to us, and we will return your family to you."

"I want to see dem before I do anyt'ing. Sure you understand my doubts about your sincerity."

Again, Porchenko laughed. "I would be happy to oblige you." He waved his hand at one of his bodyguards. "Bring the little fairy boy. Leave the children."

Remy bit back an ugly response. While he wanted nothing more than to see the children, he knew that Amadeo wouldn't lie to him. After a gut-wrenching wait, Amadeo was dragged into the office.

"Remy!" Amadeo cried, seeing him. He went to embrace him, but was stopped by a sharp blow to his stomach. He doubled over, retching.

"Ain't no cause for dat!" Remy hissed. "You alright, 'Deo?"

Amadeo spat on the floor. "I'm okay. So are the boys. They're just scared." He paused and cast an ugly look at Porchenko. "They need food, water. Please."

Viktor raised an eyebrow. "Fine. It will be delivered to your cell. Now, off you go." Again, he waved his hand, and Amadeo was shoved out the door.

Remy took a deep, calming breath, trying to get his anger under control. He had to tread carefully with this Porchenko bastard. "I'm gonna need time ta contact de Guild, put de order out. But I wanna know: how do I prove dat we done what you want?"

"I want the ring, Monsieur LeBeau. Bring it to me, and I will release your family to you. You have 48 hours."

Remy felt his heart thud painfully in his chest. Porchenko knew about the ring, which meant he also knew the importance of it. Whoever was in possession of that ancient artifact would be able to wield incredible - and dangerous - power. It had been the symbol of the Thieves Guild rulers for centuries.

"I'll be here wit' de ring." Remy promised. He started to fidget, wanting to get out of there as soon as possible. It was going to take time and a minor miracle to get that ring.

Porchenko nodded. "See that you do. You may go now."

Remy scowled. He turned sharply on his heel, and was escorted back to his car. He didn't breathe easy again until he was back at the Sundowner Bar to pick up Jono.

_*I'm here, Jono.*_

A moment later, the front door of the bar opened, and Jono emerged. He seemed a little disheveled. Remy gave him a curious look as he dropped down into the passenger seat.

"What de hell happened to you?"

Jono shrugged. _*Had a bit of a disagreement wif a local tough. Set 'im straight.*_ He gave his version of a smile: crinkled eyes beneath raised brows. _*Now, 'ow did it go? The boys? Amadeo? They're alright?*_

"Dey let me see Amadeo. He said de little ones is okay, dey ain't been hurt. Just scared."

Jono heaved a sigh of relief. _*And what do we gorra do ter get 'em back?*_

"Dat's a little more complicated, ami. Need ta call mon PÃ¨re. He actually de one dat got what dose fuckers want." Remy paused. "See, de Thieves Guild, we got dis ring. It's an old artifact, very powerful. Been used as symbol of aut'ority by us for generations."

_*But you're the bloody king o' the Thieves Guild! Why don't you have it?*_

"I don't carry it around wit' me," Remy sighed. "It's entrusted to mon PÃ¨re right now, and where he keeps it, I ain't got no clue. Safer dat way. So now I gotta convince him to let me turn it over ta dis bunch o' low-rent cooyons."

Jono shuddered. _*Will he?*_

"Yeah, I t'ink he will. Problem is, I don't know where he is, or how soon he can get here." Remy pulled his cellphone out of the glove box. Jono seemed surprised; he'd been expecting something more impressive being needed to contact the larger-than-life Jean-Luc LeBeau.

Remy made his call. He spoke in rapid French, seemed to be arguing for a while, then gave a deep sigh of relief. "Merci, PÃ¨re. See you back at de house. Je t'aime aussi." He hung up the phone and tossed it into the center console. "Got lucky. He's in town. Gonna meet us at de house in a couple hours."

_*And then what?*_ Jono asked as Remy pulled out onto the street.

Remy frowned. "Gonna give dese upstart fuckers what dey want." He paused and shook his head. "Hell of a way to finally introduce Harper to mon PÃ¨re, neh?"

_*You afraid yer Pop ain't gonna take the news well? That you're with a man?*_

"Don't know. Never introduced him ta any of my lovers before. And Harper and me? We much more serious den dat. He and Christopher...dey my family. And I wanna make it official."

Jono was stunned. _*Yer gonna propose?*_

"Yeah, I t'ink I am. Just don't tell Harper. I still ain't sure dat's what he wants. If I'm _who_ he wants."

_*Fuckin' 'ell, Remy. Sometimes yer so daft. Anyone wif 'alf a brain can see how much Harper loves yer. And Christopher, too.*_ Jono rolled his eyes. _*You gorra stop thinkin' you don't deserve to be 'appy, mate. Cuz yer do. Sometimes I get the feelin' you're just waiting for shit to go bad. Yer can't live yer life like that. Trust me, I know. Took me a long time to stop thinkin' the same way.*_

Remy looked at Jono with a new admiration. The young man was spot-on in his assessment of Remy's fears, his feelings of inadequacy. "For a kid, you sure got you a good head on your shoulders, cher."

Jono laughed at that. _*I got me moments. Now get us back to New Orleans. I'll call Bobby and let 'im know we're on our way back before he comes charging to the rescue.*_

That got a smile out of Remy. He goosed the gas, and headed for New Orleans.


	6. A Not So Random Act of Violence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A young mutant is kidnapped in the city, his human girlfriend shot. The circumstances are eerily similar to Danny's kidnapping. Kitty, with the help of an NYPD Detective, interviews the girlfriend in the hospital, and discovers a possible clue to the identity of the group responsible.

"I thought you might be interested in a case I caught," the aging police detective said as he joined Kitty in her office. The two had met when he'd come to her for help after a serial killer had been targeting mutants. While Kitty liked Detective Freeman, his sudden appearance at the school never did bode well.

Kitty offered him a cup of coffee, which he gladly accepted. He added a surprising amount of sugar and cream, then dropped wearily down into a chair, grunting as he did so. After twenty-five years on the job, his body was beat to hell. One of these days, he swore he was going to retire.

"Why is it the only time I see you Sam, you have bad news for me?" Kitty sighed.

Freeman laughed at that. "You love me, and you know it." He sipped at his coffee. "Got a girl in the hospital. She was shot last night after leaving a soup kitchen where she volunteers."

"She's a mutant?" Kitty asked, fearing another killer targeting mutants.

"Nope, but her boyfriend is. Couple of guys showed up out of nowhere she said, and grabbed her boyfriend. Right off the street. Used a tranquilizer gun on him. She said she tried to stop them, and that's when they shot her. She has quite a story to tell; you might want to go talk to her."

Kitty stared hard at him. The boy's kidnapping sounded just like Danny's. She figured she better come clean with the Detective. "Our PA was snatched the other night from the campus at Empire University. Same circumstances. We've been unable to locate him so far."

Freeman nodded. "Yup. I know. Been some scuttlebutt in the mutant community about it. Everyone's afraid the body snatchers are back."

"You think the hospital will let me talk to her?" Kitty asked, standing. Freeman smiled at her.

"Already got it arranged, honey." He set his empty coffee cup on the desk and got to his feet. "One of these days, I'm going to retire, and then what are you going to do without me?"

"Hire you."

Freeman gave a surprised snort of laughter. "Kitty-girl, you sure know how to sweet talk a man. Now get your coat, it's cold. I'll drive."

_St. Joan's Medical Center, Brooklyn_

The girl was asleep in her hospital bed. Her chest was swathed in bandages, and her face covered in bruises. Kitty winced at the sight. She gave Detective Freeman a questioning glance.

"They beat her before they shot her. Sophia put up a helluva fight before they shot her." Sam scowled darkly.

Sophia stirred and opened her eyes. "Oh. Hi Sam," she said softly. She tried to sit up, but Freeman hurried to her side.

"No, you sit still, honey." He patted her hand in an almost paternal gesture of affection. "Sophia, this is Kitty Pryde, leader of the X-Men. I told you about her. Is it alright if she asks you some questions? One of her people was taken the night before Tommy was, and it might have been the same guys."

Sophia paled. "Is it the body snatchers? Was it them who took Tommy?" She asked, obviously terrified for her boyfriend.

Kitty pulled up a chair and sat down next to her. "I don't know. That's what we're trying to find out. Anything you can tell us could help us find Tommy, and anyone else they might have taken. What is his specific mutant power?"

Sophia closed her eyes and fought back tears. "Tommy's a teleporter."

"Nothing else? No obvious physical traits?" Kitty asked.

"No. He looked human," Sophia replied.

Kitty began to suspect something much bigger was going on. The body snatchers only took mutants with specific physical traits that could be harvested and sold to human buyers. "I don't want to give you false hope, but I don't think the body snatchers took him. The question now is, who did?"

"Your PA...does he also present as human?" Freeman asked.

Kitty nodded. "Yeah. He's a shapeshifter." She rubbed her face. She needed to think, to figure out the connection. Why take mutants with these specific abilities?

"Sophia, how much do you remember about what happened?"

"All of it," Sophia replied. "We were walking home from the soup kitchen. We always took a shortcut down this little sidestreet. We came around a corner, and there they were: four big men, all dressed in black, with this shark-head symbol on the right shoulder. They had guns. Except one, he had a tranquilizer rifle, the kind game wardens use, you know? Before Tommy could teleport us out of there, they shot him with that trank gun. He just fell down and didn't get back up." She started to cry. Freeman handed her a tissue.

"Thank you, Sam," Sophia said, wiping her eyes. "Anyway, they started to drag him to this black SUV. I held onto Tommy, wouldn't let go. That's when one of them hit me in the face with his gun. And then...he just shot me. He laughed at me, called me 'race traitor' and pushed my face in a puddle. I woke up here in the hospital. I can't believe I let them take Tommy..."

Sam patted her hand again. "Don't you blame yourself, honey. You were very brave."

Kitty stood. "Thank you, Sophia. You've given me a lot to work with. I promise you, we'll do everything we can to find Tommy and bring him home safe to you." She gave the girl a reassuring smile, then practically fled from her hospital room. A moment later, Freeman joined her in the hallway. Kitty was leaning up against the wall, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"You okay?" he asked her, concerned.

"I think we have a much bigger problem than the body snatchers, Sam," Kitty sighed. She thought she'd seen that shark head symbol that Sophia had described in a recent intel report she'd received from the Avengers. "I need to get back to the school, quick. I've got a hunch who's behind this."


End file.
